Stupid improvised songs. -.-

I'm just like everybody else--
Well, all the artists.
We wear our hearts out on our sleeves.
We skip in winter,
And in summertime we cry,
And in autumn we pretend we are the leaves.

We wear our pockets full into the bursting
I have a million things in mine.
I've got--
Three cigarette butts that Jimi Hendrix smoked,
The old syringe that stopped up all my lies.
The pills I took that made me care about the money markets,
I've got the newspaper that said I died.
There are three words in here that I have never said.
I have--in here--five hundred million steps.
I've got a special place for those two missing grey-blue tiles,
and I'm gathering another hundred miles.

Everything big to us just... happens bigger.
A set of earrings is a smile.
I wear our conversations made into a cloak that
Keeps me safe from wear and tear and lies.
A hundred of your words are strung into a heavy necklace,
that I'll wear each sunless day until I die.

-

It was prettier when I was singing it outside on my way home, because when I was singing it, I didn't know what was going to come next.